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skirts of the group, and handed her over the people's heads, and threw her into Fergus's arms; all now burst forth in grief; Sergeant Macbean got hold of little Davie Grahame, and the crowd made room for the dominie, the minister, and the sergeant to get forward.

Fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and hopeless sweethearts, weeped the tear of sympathy, and cast an eye of envy on the poor dominie, walking by the side of his son, now "curtailed of his fair proportions of man's dimensions;" and as Fergus could not yet walk very gently with the wooden leg, "the bird maun flighter, that flies wi' ae wing," said Sandy Glass.

Still Fergus was a son; and perhaps if he too had fallen in battle, the griefs of the people that now flocked round him might have closed much sooner, for they could not look upon the dominie and Fergus, without dropping a

tear and heaving a sigh at the recollec tion of "their ain bairn lying cauld in unchristian grave."

The next day the sergeant and Fergus were recounting "the deeds of other times," and relating the marvellous, in presence of all who came to the smithy; for Mactaggart was the most inquisitive man living; and though the sergeant had, from being among the French, become nearly "as loquacious as a crow," still he and Macbean would not voluntarily say what each had gone through, for it was Sergeant Macbean's motto, that "naithing's to be done in haste, but gripping of fleas."

But this day the rencounter of St. Clyde and Macbean with the robbers was talked of, and Macbean for the first time boasted of having partly disarmed the enemy."

"What gat ye man?" cried Mactaggart; "a dirk?"

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Na, na; nae dirk, but a pistol."

A pistol, man; whar is't?"

"At hame, at Mr. Maclean's house: let by-ganes be by-ganes, I'll keep the pouch gun; it's a sin to lie on the deil, but I could a' gatten a yellow boy for the pistol, but I'll keep it."

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Ay, do sae, sergeant; it's an ill pack that's nae worth the custom; but wha wad gi'ye ane and twenty shillings for it, Mr. Macbean?" said Sandy Glass. "Gif ye winna sell it, ye ken ye winna,"

But here the company were interrupted by the arrival of the dominie, and all his guests went home to dinner. After dinner, Fergus wished to see the pistol, and Macbean went to his knapsack, brought it out, and handed it to Fergus; Sandy Glass stood looking in at the room-window, for it was open." Bless me, sergeant," cried Maclean, "this is a fine pistol, it has

once belonged to somebody great;" and looking more narrowly at it, "this is the arms of the captain on the stock; look, father, isn't that the arms of St. Clyde ?"

"That's Colin's pistol, that's the wee gun he left, when he gaed away to the wars," cried Glass; "I can see as far through a mill-stane as he that picked it; I ken'd he wad gar ye trow that the moon's made of green cheese; it was his uncle that gat the pistols an' a the things in the muckle garret; aye, now, now, Mr. Maclean, dinna ye think, as I mony time said, he wad rake hell for a bodle; it was nae Lerwick; it was ither fowk too; twa men 'greed to kill the young laird and sergeant at night, naebody else but them ;-I'll ne'er put the rogue aboon the gentleman, it was the Charlie's man that did the bluidy wark."

The dominie examined the pistol, and

declared the engraved work to be the arms of St. Clyde, but greatly defaced by ill usage.

"And you wrested this pistol " said the dominie, "from the hands of one of the men who attacked you ?"

"To be sure I did,” replied Macbean. "And from the tallest one, I think it's said."

"Yes, from the big fellow with the tattered jacket and the auld holed

trowsers."

"I ken mair about it yet; fools should ne'er hae chapping sticks; but gif ye'll let me glower at the wee gun, I'se may be tell ye a' about it," said Glass.

The pistol was given to him, and he no sooner seized it than he cried for joy, and exclaimed, "it's the vera pistol he gaed to Colin when he was a wee thing, and Sandy Glass was a wee callan; I mind the day my faither took

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